Cray screams as the snake's fangs sink into his flesh. Acastas turns at the shout in time to see his friend fall to the ground clutching at his leg. He races to Cray, watching the red tail of the snake disappear into the undergrowth at the side of the road.
'What's the matter? Were you bitten?'
Cray does not answer, but there is no need for a response. Two puncture wounds in Cray's left calf muscle are already swelling and turning white, the skin around them turning black. Cray moans and thrashes on the earth overwhelmed by the pain. Acastas places a hand on his friend's chest, steadying him.
'Lay still. It was a fire viper - the poison is already on its way to your heart. Do not help it on its way by getting excited.'
Cray says nothing but obeys the command by laying flat on his back, motionless, his body tensing from the strain. Acastas stares at the wound for a moment, 'I'll have to suck the poison out or you will die.' He says it to himself, as if preparing for what he has to do.
'Just do it.' Cray spits the words through an uncooperative mouth. His face is twisting in agony - the eyes rolling far back into his head - but his body remains still. He is aware of the potency of the fire viper's venom. Even the strongest of men will survive for only a few minutes after being bitten and the long months on the road has sapped both their strength. Acastas does not have long if he is to save his friend.
He quickly removes his belt, wrapping it around Cray's thigh and pulling tight. Cray winces but his eyes tell Acastas to continue. With the makeshift tourniquet in place, he lowers his face to wound. His nose turns at the stench of dying flesh but he places his mouth over the two holes regardless. Taking a breath to steady his nerve Acastas sucks at the punctures, feeling hot blood rush into his mouth. Resisting the urge to wretch he spits the red fluid on the floor, immediately returning to his friend's injury. He spits another three mouthfuls of blood before the liquid entering his mouth changes. His fourth attempt produces a large amount of thin, watery venom which burns the inside of his mouth like a hot coal. This time it is impossible not to gag, and Acastas turns away, emptying the poison and the contents of his stomach on the side of the road. His mouth stings from the toxins while his throat burns from the acid he has just ejected. He coughs, spluttering so much he wretches again, doubling over in agony.
It's not all out. The poison is not all out.
The thought transcends his pain, reminding him to the urgency of the situation. Knowing full well what he must endure, his mouth returns to the two points oozing blood on Cray's leg. Again, thin venom sprays the back of his throat, searing the flesh there. Squeezing his eyes closed, Acastas continues to draw on the wound until thick blood gushes into his mouth. He spits, noticing in horror one of his teeth leaving his mouth with the vicious mixture. He quickly raises a bag from his side to his lips, squeezing the soft leather to force the water into his mouth. He swills and spits, lest the venom kill more nerves and he lose more teeth. He repeats this several times until, finally, the burning begins to subside. He quickly checks his teeth, waggling each individually with his thumb and forefinger. Some are loose, but the gums will heal. He is lucky.
'Damned snake!'
The smell of his own seared flesh fills his nostrils as he takes several deep breaths to calm his rapid heart. His mouth and throat are raw, the air passing as he inhales feeling as if he is breathing brambles. He lifts the bag to his mouth again, this time swallowing the cool liquid. He gulps several times until the water calms the upheaval in his gut. Once satisfied, he empties the rest of the bag over Cray's leg, which is already swollen and black. Blood is no longer seeping from the wound - the flesh having swollen enough to close the punctures - but it will still need a bandage to prevent infection. Acastas removes his shirt and purposefully sets about ripping it into strips to dress the wound.
